


Anger

by dreamingKatfish



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Gen, Post-Game(s), all characters are there, but not all of them are mentioned, no beta we die like men, ouma is very upset, rightfully so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-07 22:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20983484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingKatfish/pseuds/dreamingKatfish
Summary: Ouma is sick of them pretending like nothing happened.





	Anger

**Author's Note:**

> Title actually referencing a song of the same name by Sleeping at Last. 
> 
> But I made this in a sleepy haze at night, so yeah. Hope it conveys Ouma being pissed off at the others well.

They were cheering for life nearly lost. Just so happy to be here. So content to ignore everything before this. Ecstatic to act all buddy-buddy to killers and victims and masterminds and monsters. Overjoyed to act as if they didn’t just act like the villains they so claimed others to be. Delighted to pretend as if everyone here had done no wrong. 

And Ouma loathed them for it. Hated how they wrap an arm around his shoulder as if they hadn’t just stood by and watched as he was choked. Despised how they smile at him as if they hadn’t just been agreeing that he will always be alone. Resented how they cheered upon his awakening. Repulsed by their false reality. 

A fake smile is plastered to his face. But truth be told all Ouma felt was hate, hate,  _ hate _ . 

Momota swings an arm around his shoulders and pulls him into a half hug, laughing at some stupid joke or another from someone that Ouma doesn’t enough about to look up and see who. 

It feels like something’s cracking. 

His smile drops.

He throws Momota’s arm off his shoulder.

“Hey! What’s wrong?” Momota asks, it doesn’t sound annoyed to Ouma, but it feels like it. And what right does Momota have to be annoyed at him!

Ouma growls, “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you!? What’s wrong with all of you!?” Everyone begins to look at him. He can’t stand it. “All of you sit around as if we weren’t just in a killing game! As if some of us haven’t actively killed someone in this  _ very room _ ! What the hell is wrong with you people!?  _ It hasn’t even been a month! _ ”

“Ouma-kun, come on you know it isn’t like that,” Akamatsu tries to reason.

Ouma doesn’t see any sort of reason in that. “Isn’t like that!?  _ Isn’t like that!? WHAT PART OF THIS ISN’T LIKE THAT!? _ ” 

“We’re friends Ouma-kun! We know it was a high stress situation and so we did things we aren’t proud of!” She tries again.

“Friends…?” Ouma shakes his head, “We aren’t friends.” He steps closer to the center of the room, towards Akamatsu. “And ‘things we aren’t proud of’ is such a mild way of saying we killed people. That there’s blood on most of our hands. Whether our own or somebody else’s.” 

“But…!”

Ouma doesn’t let her finish, hell he doesn’t even let her try. “No buts! There’s no exceptions! WE ARE MURDERERS, GET THAT THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULL! Just because we don't talk about it, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen!” He rolls his eyes, “And don’t give me that bullshit friendship speech either because face it Akamatsu we aren’t and will never be friends. Especially not with me.”

“What did we do to you!?” Chabashira protests. 

Ouma smirks, it’s as bullshit as they are. He claps, “Oh, let’s take a looksy shall we!” He points to Harukawa, “She choked me and you all watched, on multiple occasions might I add! And during the first one all I did was reveal her dangerous secret. That hardly warrants, oh I don't know,  _ being choked _ .” He splays out his hands, “Ooo! Ooo! Or how about when she literally tried to get everyone killed just because she wanted to kill me and none of you ever said anything about it. I can do the smallest of deeds and get a near death experience, but she gets away with  _ every-fucking-thing _ !”

He points to Akamatsu, “And hey how about that time you cared so much about your goal that you completely disregarded everyone’s well being! I called you out and even though everyone attested to that fact that they weren’t alright, they still all went in opposition to me and acted like you had done nothing wrong. Not only that but  _ you _ ,” Ouma swings around to point at Amami, “Then decided to immediately accuse me of wanting to start the killing game even though all I did was suggest we find another way that isn’t the impossible escape tunnel to get out. I didn’t even do anything yet!”

He spins to look at everyone, “Hell there’s only two people here who haven’t tried to screw me over! One is Akamatsu, but that’s only because she was dead! And then Gokuhara! But you all tried  _ sooo _ hard to use him against me that he didn’t even have to do anything!”

Why can’t he see anything properly anymore? 

“And afterwards! Afterwards you tried to go after me! And even once everyone was ignoring me,  _ you _ ,” Ouma spoke with venom as he pointed at Saihara, “ _ You went out of your damn way to be cruel.  _ You already told me to shut up during the trial, but I guess that wasn’t enough for you! Because maybe rather than trying to defend Momota all you did was try to rub salt in a fresh wound! What was it you said exactly? Oh right, I remember! You said  _ no one wants to be around me. That I’m alone and I always will be. _ Do you even regret that!? Do you even think about what you said!?” His arm drops, “You want so badly for me to be the monster here, but honestly all of you are the true monsters.”

What’s pitter pattering nearby? There isn’t any faucets nearby last Ouma checked.

“YOU ALL GAVE ME HELL FOR LYING AND YET HERE YOU ARE! YOU LIE TO YOURSELVES AND OTHER AND  _ FOR WHAT!? _ ” He wraps his arms around himself. “But that’s right, you guys can’t do any wrong! Nope! Only I can be a terrible person!” 

Since when has the ground been that close?

“And Shirogane, oh how Shirogane pushed that idea. Everytime she could vilify me, she did. And you al believed her without hesitation. Because I’m the only monster here, right? I’m the big bad mastermind, right? I’m the one who deserved to die more than anybody else,  _ right? _ ” He squeezes his arms tighter.

When did everything go black? When did he start kneeling?

“I hate you all. I hate you! Ihateyou! _ Ihateyou!IHATEYOU! _ ALL OF YOU ARE JUST TERRIBLE! YOU CARE ABOUT NOTHING MORE THAN YOURSELVES WHILE PRETENDING THAT YOU’RE SOME SORT OF MAGNANIMOUS PERSON! REALITY IS YOU’RE WORSE THAN ME!”

Ouma stands and points shouting, “And I fucking hate you! So fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! Especially Fuck you! You too! I’d tell you to go to hell, but you’d probably enjoy it there! Fuck you!”

Every part of him is shaking like a leaf, his eyes sting, he realizes he’s been crying for a while now, hasn’t he?

He feels like he’s going to collapse. Where was he going with this? He doesn’t know. He never did. He’s just so fucking sick of this. 

They aren’t saying anything. Ouma doesn’t know if he prefers that or not. He tries to take a deep breath… it’s harder to do than it looks. 

He stares them down, “Well!?” They remain silent, he scoffs, “Of course, of fucking course! Don’t know what else I expected from any of you.” 

He honestly just wants to sleep for a hundred years now. So he doesn’t waste time, spinning on his heel and storming out of the room. 

He wonders if his words broke the illusion for any of them… probably not. They loved to think everything he does is a lie. Hell they probably thought he was lying just now about being so angry. 

He would see it coming at least.

He’s  _ really _ tired. 

He can’t sleep.

He never could.

It wouldn’t help anyway.

He doesn’t look at the mirror in the bathroom.

He lies in his bed, face planted into his pillow.

He idly wonders if he would suffocate.

If they would notice.

If they would care. 

No, he concludes.

No they would not.

He doesn’t suffocate.

Nothing changes in the morning.

At least he assumes so.

He doesn't get out of bed.

There’s no point.

He wonders if he’s lost his mind from lack of sleep yet.

Probably.

It didn’t take him long to lash out.

He doesn’t know if he’s thinking anymore.

He can’t tell.

It’s fine.

Just another day.

He refuses to be wrong.

He doesn’t check to see if that works.

Nothing happens.

It’s night.

Then it’s day.

Then there’s a knock at his door.

His door opens.

It’s not his death.

He doesn’t smile.

But maybe he’s wrong for once.

He hates to admit it.

**Author's Note:**

> If you comment about my characterization being ooc just because I don't fit into your narrow view of how these characters are like then I hope you get trapped in a portapotty that falls on its side while it's full. 
> 
> Listen to my bio and just don't.
> 
> Anything else though feel free to comment on.


End file.
